


MHYSA → d. winchester

by verticulars



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dragons, Except she's God's wife, F/M, Mhysa, Mother of All, Multi, Naessa is basically Daenerys Targaryen, Naessa was banished due to loving another man, Supernatural - Freeform, Whatever the Winchesters are fighting are not dragons, mother of dragons, they just believe they are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-04 11:38:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14592216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verticulars/pseuds/verticulars
Summary: MHYSA | ❝ it is old enochian, dean. it means 'mother'. ❞─ in which naessa, the mother of all ( and dragons ), is banished from her home[ SUPERNATURAL AU ][ SUPERNATURAL | VERTICULARS 2018 ]





	1. mhysa.

**MHYSA.**

❛ _ you're a dragon. be a dragon. _ ❜

 

❛  _girl of the dragons, girl who burns the men. no hesitation. goddess girl. dragon girl. girl, who never grows old. girl._  ❜

_o. o._ **SUMMARY.**

Every angel falls from grace. Lucifer and Castiel can agree to that. Every angel has a mother, though most don't remember, but Castiel, Gabriel, Lucifer, Michael, and Balthazar can confirm that. 

Long ago, when time was still new and history was still but a dream, the Mother of All, God's wife, fell in love with a normal human and was banished from Heaven. Castiel, the youngest of the angels, never knew how his mother was like personally, though he had heard stories about her greatness. "Madness and Greatness are two sides of the same coin," Lucifer had told him one day, teaching Castiel about their mother's family, "and the gods flip a coin and the whole world holds its breath to see how it will land." The archangel twirled a single coin in the air, the light glinting off the silver. "Mhysa's mother, Jaenna, was great, while her father was mad. Her eldest brother, great, and Vivor, her middle brother, was very much like their father. He sold her off and tried to use the army his sister's husband had to get back his throne. Father saved her from her husband's cruel ways, nurtured her back to life, they both fell in love, married, and had us all. 

That is how our story begins, brother."

 

_o.o._ **CAST.**  

**(** _THE MOTHER_ **)**

** NAESSA. **

EMILIA CLARKE.

❛ when i first was sold off, i was a foolish girl. i had no lands, no armies, and no money, only a name, and within that name, nothing but power was held inside it. i now have three dragons, the largest army in the history of mankind, and loyal, powerful children that still remember who their true mother is, not the washed-out lies their father have told them. ❜

**(** _MR. COMATOSE_ **)**

** CASTIEL. **

MISHA COLLINS.

❛ what a shame. we all became such fragile broken things. ❜

**(** _THE HELPLESS HERO_   **)**

** DEAN. **

JENSEN ACKLES.

❛ you are so brave and so quiet, i forget you are suffering. ❜

**(** _THE BROKEN BROTHER_ **)**

** SAM. **

JARED PADALECKI.

❛ he's so beautiful. such a beautiful disaster. ❜

**(** _THE FALLEN ANGEL_ **)**

** LUCIFER. **

MARK PELLEGRINO. 

❛ solitude is very dangerous, great passions grow into monsters in the dark of the mind. ❜

**(** _THE TRICKSTER_ **)**

** GABRIEL. **

RICHARD SPEIGHT JR.

❛ it went horribly right. ❜

**(** _HALF-ANGEL KID_ **)**

** JACK. **

ALEXANDER CALVERT.

❛ you can always find something beautiful in something destructive and now i finally understand why i've always been so fond of you. ❜

❛  _SHE HOLDS FIRE IN HER VEINS AND ICE IN HER EYES_  ❜ | **i.** _mhysa_ ramin djawadi, **ii.** _dragonstone_ ramin djawadi, **iii.** _spoils of war pt. i & ii_ ramin djawadi, **iv.** _believer_ imagine dragons, **v.** _paint it, black_ ciara, **vi.** _survivor_ 2wei, **vii.** _zombie_ the cranberries. 

❛ she was taught how to breathe fire by god, so that if she was ever thrown into the wolf pit, she came back leading the pack. and that was the largest mistake anybody has ever made in mankind. ❜

 

 


	2. o. epigraph.

**MHYSA.**

_o. epigraph_

▅▅▅▅▅▅

— i have never been nothing. i am the blood of the dragon.


	3. one. mother of all.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Listen to this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gNxbquecGsY&t=112s

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Je vous remercie - Thank you.

**MHYSA.**

_— chapter one._

❛ mother of all. ❜

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

**ALTHOUGH MULTIPLE MILLENNIA HAD PASSED SINCE HER BANISHMENT,** Naessa still remembered it like it was yesterday. 

She remembered that she was wearing a soft pink dress that day, a large stomach protruding out of her, reminding everyone that she carried another angel inside of her. She had chosen the name _Castiel_ , the Shield of God, though God himself had banished her, his wife. She loved another man other than him, mostly due to the fact that God didn't seem to care about her, only using her to give him children and have someone to call his without actually loving them. Though Naessa had it all wrong. God loved her with all his heart and when he remembered that if he showed too much love towards her, his enemies would use her as bait, learning that she was his weakness. She had given birth to the little one under a full moon, wolves howling in the background, a fire roaring beside her, trying to keep the mother warm as she pushed out the child. She remembered seeing the pinks, purples, and blues of the galaxies above her, stars twinkling down as she gave one last push and felt the baby leave her body. She was covered in sweat, chest heaving as she heard the newborn cry. 

If a regular human tried that, she would've died as soon as she pushed for the first time. Luckily, God had given her something that made her immortal, nothing but an angel blade could kill her, and many were in existence. Naessa picked up the naked baby in her arms and cradled him to her chest, calming him down as soon as he felt his mother's arms wrap around him. Naessa had that type of control over little tykes. They felt safe in her arms, in her presence, and wanted nothing more than to curl up to her and sleep for eternity. Many mortal men and women didn't bathe their child within the first eight to forty-eight hours the baby is born _—_ risk of infections _—_ but Castiel was an angel, and little things like those weren't going to stop him, even at a young age. "Hi," she whispers down to him as she stood up, her lower body aching after the grueling five-hour labor, but she ignored it, carrying her last born son towards the river next to them, the water calm and peaceful in the moonlight. "It's going to be alright," she mutters, her foot sinking into the clay of the river, Castiel's little mouth opening, looking like he was yawning, but Naessa knew better; he was just hungry. She raised him a little higher and watched as he latched on to her breast, little mouth taking out all of the milk he needed. Within the first year of an angel's life, he or she drank their mother's milk, and after that, they ate nothing. When Naessa first breastfed, it felt weird, the feeling of a mouth wrapping around a hardened nipple and sucking out all of the necessary milk seeming sort of taboo to her, but she had gotten used to it; she had at least a hundred children, possibly more. 

But there was one.

One angel she had not given birth to, instead, he was created by God. Metatron, the Scribe of God. He wrote the Angel and Demon Tablets for God, then vanished into thin air, no one knows where he had gone to. No one dared follow him. Then God learned about Naessa's affair while she was pregnant and isolated her to Earth, stating that as soon as Castiel turned a year old, he was to come home, to Heaven, to be raised among his kind, and his mother, his Mhysa, wasn't allowed to come with him. An angel was to pick him up. This angel was Anna, Naessa's first-born daughter. She had admitted that she felt a little betrayed that her own daughter volunteered to pick Castiel up, but allowed to her leave with him. 

The Mother of All wandered the earth, helping those she knew were destined to be transcendent — Alexander the Great, Napoleon Bonaparte, Winston Churchill, Abraham Lincoln (kicked in the head by a horse at the age of 9), George Washington (though she did not approve of his enslavement of black folks), Elizabeth I, Queen Victoria, and William the Conqueror are just some — and left as soon as they were healed or lead in the right direction. They all proved themselves to be worthy of her help, and, after they did what they had to do, they never saw her again. Many speculated she was an angel sent from Heaven, others thought she was a demon, but they were all wrong. 

Naessa went throughout the world, living off the land, and, if she could find any, live in small apartments, otherwise, she continued roaming. " _Je vous remercie,_ " she told one of the waiters at the little cafe in France, taking a sip of her latte. Though she didn't need to eat, she still did so, trying to remember what food had once tasted like a long, long time ago. She had an open book in front of her, the story of the Winchester brothers written in the fine, yellowing pages, the writing within it telling her one thing: it was written by her husband. She remembered how he wrote, how the words he'd written sounded like on paper, his tone staring right back at her. 

_Fordham University_

_The Bronx, New York_

_Sunday 12 November 2006_

_A chill November breeze blew John Soeder’s hair into his face, Mother Nature’s reminder to get a haircut in the absence of his actual mother being around to nag him about it. She was back in Ohio where it was safe, and also ten degrees colder than it was here in the Bronx. If Emily Soeder could see her son’s shaggy mop of brown hair, she’d make that clicking noise she always made and offer to call to make the haircutting appointment herself._

She always wondered what made him think writing these books about the poor boys was a good idea, until she remembered that he was God, that the things he writes are going to come to life, that they're going to happen, and the books were going to possibly be a new addition to the Bible called the Book of Winchester. She clicked her tongue as she closed the cover, sighing as she sees a mother hugging her child close to her hip, trying to protect him from the cold. Naessa and Lucifer were close. Real close. They both knew what it was like to go through many things, through things they didn't want to go through, but they had endured it, both of them protecting the other from harm. That's like the Winchester brother's relationship. The mother had learned about the brothers a few years back, watching them from the trees as they tried to find the wendigo, trying to learn their ulterior motives, but she found none; those boys were nice to others, trying to defend others from things that aren't seen in everyday life, and she left them to their own. Yes, Naessa was God's wife and an immortal, but she couldn't help them; it was against Heaven's rules. She might've been banished from her second home, her kingdom, but she still followed its rules. She gulps as she sees a man stare at her with dark brown eyes, his eyebrows drawn in in confusion. She knew why he was looking at her for; she wore outlandish clothing. A blue dress made of fine silk, the sides cut off so a pair of brown pants and boots showed through, and a gold neck piece was placed around her throat, the intricate details coming down over her breasts and under the folds of them, a hole cut off on her chest, revealing her cleavage. Her silver hair was let down, two small braids connecting behind her head, her violet eyes scanning the crowd in front of her, the guy's eyes lowering to her cleavage.

The man should've shown some decency, at the very least.


	4. two. castiel.

**MHYSA.**

_— chapter two._

❛ castiel. ❜

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

_**CASTIEL HAS ALWAYS FELT A MOTHERLY PRESENCE**_ next to him when he was on Earth, and he was pretty sure the other angels felt it, but none of them ever talked about it. While they didn't know who or what it was, Castiel knew that it was their mother watching over them, making sure they were all safe and sound, protecting them from far away. He always smiled at that, but only did so when he was alone, which was very rare. At night he would pray, asking her to come back, but alas, there's no response. It was as if she never heard him; so, after almost 2,000 years, he quit. He realized his mother would always be there with him in mind, and that was enough consolation for him. 

Inside a warehouse, Bobby Singer sat whistling a tune, kicking his legs softly against the crate he sat in, different sigils written on the walls around him, the older man toting a shotgun. Dean Winchester, his adoptive son, twirled a small blade against the wood, sitting across from Bobby, sitting up straight as he sighs, "You sure you did the ritual right?" Bobby only gives him a small glare, cocking his head to the right, making the boy before him look away, "Sorry." He puts down the demon blade. "Touchy-touchy, huh?"  A small silence passes between them before a loud crash on the roof of the building breaks it, the two men looking up, grabbing their weapons as they became more aware. They stand up, watching as the metal roof above them moves around, making them both see the light ink-blue sky outside. It had no pattern whatsoever, seeming as if whatever was on it was just aimlessly running around rapidly, "Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind." The lights begin bursting, Bobby and Dean crouching low as to not get hurt from the flying sparks and glass, the large double doors opening to let in someone. A handsome dark, blue-eyed man walks in, wearing a nude colored trench coat over a suit with a disheveled tie and collar, the man's hair messy yet it made him look a bit more. . . rugged, if you can even call an angel rugged. Bobby and Dean spot him through the showers of sparks, the two raising their shotguns in defense, but the man doesn't falter; he just keeps coming. The pentagram doesn't stop him, and the two hunters take this time to shoot. One bullet strikes Castiel's chest, right below his heart, but no blood or cries of pain come out from within him. Six bullets in and he's still walking with a purpose, Bobby and Dean looking at each other before getting the demon blade, Castiel staring at Dean with. . . what seemed like either longing or comprehension that it was the man he had saved.

"Who are you?"

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition," came Castiel's response, Dean nodding at him. "Yeah," he says. "Thanks for that." He plunges the knife into Castiel's chest, a sickening sound of skin and muscle tearing apart filling their ears, Dean expecting the man to drop dead like any other demon did, but the blue-eyed man just stared him down. He glances at the blade stuck in his chest, then, without a second thought, pulls it out without a trace of pain. Bobby swings a crowbar, but Castiel's fast; he has it gripped in his hand tightly, turning to face the older man. Pressing two fingers to his head, Bobby's eyes roll back and softly lands on his knees, then his body weight takes over and he rolls over to his side. Castiel just looks down at him with no emotion while Dean was shocked, to say the least. "We need to talk, Dean," Castiel says to him. "Alone."

Dean crouches over Bobby, checking his pulse, only to find one thankfully, and he glares at Cas. "Your friend's alive," the angel looks over a small pamphlet. 

"Who are you?"

"Castiel."

"Yeah," Dean scoffs, "I figured that much, I mean _what_ are you?" Cas' eyebrows furrow, not knowing why he was asking that and looks over at the man. "I'm an angel of the Lord," he answers, watching Dean become a bit confused and skeptical, standing up to his tall height. Glaring at Castiel, he just says the one thing on his mind, "Get the hell of out." Naessa has the feeling of going over there to protect her youngest son, wanting nothing more than to tell of the guy that dared to speak like that to him. But she stayed in her spot, invisible, away from unwanted eyes. "There's no such thing." Cas turns to him, smirking as he walks a few feet to the right. "This is your problem, Dean," he smirks, but then a more serious face takes over it. "You have no faith." Thunder rumbles, a pair of black wings showing up on the wall behind Castiel, great and mighty. Dean's eyes widen as he watches the wings raise high above Cas' head onto the ceiling, the flashes of light stopping and they are no longer in sight. 

"Some angel you are," Dean replies, glaring at Cas. Naessa watched her son with pride; it was a very rare thing for her to see her son's wings; he kept them hidden away from anybody and everybody. "You just burned out that poor woman's eyes." The angel's head drops, then he looks to the left and catches a pair of violet eyes; his mother was there. Affection swelled over him, wanting nothing more than to run over there and hug the life out of her and make sure she was safe, but he couldn't do that; it was banned. "I warned her not to spy on my true form," Cas steps forward, shaking his head lightly. "It can be overwhelming to humans, and so can my real voice; you already knew that."

"You mean the gas station and the motel? That was you talking?"

Cas nods, Dean's looking down. "Budy, next time lower the volume."

"That was my mistake. Certain people — special people — can perceive my true visage. I thought you wouldn't be one of them. I was wrong."

"What visage are you in now, huh?" Dean asks, anger pulsating through his veins at the dark-haired, puppy-dog-eyed angel. "What holy tax accountant?" Cas moves his hands along the fabric of his trench coat, looking down at it, "This — this is a vessel." He looks up.

Dean's eyebrows come together, "You're possessing some poor bastard?"

"He's a devout man," Castiel answers him, shaking his head. "He actually prayed for this." Dean shakes his head, staring Castiel down, not wanting to believe any of the things he's hearing, but the wings, the way Castiel just made Bobby drop like dead weight with a single touch; that isn't something that can be easily explained. "Look, pal, I'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?" Cas' eyebrows draw in, confusion washing over his face; he just told Dean — and showed him — what he really was. Why wasn't he getting it? "I told you," Dean nods, clicking his tongue. "Right," his green eyes focus on Cas. "And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?" Cas becomes even more confused as he steps up to the Winchester hunter. "Good things do happen, Dean," he replies.

"Not in my experience."

Cas' head cocks to the side, "What's the matter? You don't think you don't deserve to be saved." Dean's head nods. "Why'd you do it?" Dean asks, angry.

_ "Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you." _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @DarknessEvernight13 Here you go!


End file.
